


Taking That Chance

by cadkitten



Category: Dir en grey, the GazettE
Genre: Alcohol, Anal Sex, Angst, Explicit Language, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-10-15
Updated: 2007-10-15
Packaged: 2017-11-13 23:05:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/508688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cadkitten/pseuds/cadkitten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Die doesn't want to be there, but outwardly, he forces the appearance he's required to give. Reita seems hell-bent on keeping him company. By the end of the night, alcohol isn't the only thing Die's drowning in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Taking That Chance

**Author's Note:**

> 50stories 004: Angel prompt 018: Boots for y!weekly

Some part of me feels trapped... lost... forgotten... left behind. Even standing in the middle of a crowded room, I'm all alone; or at least that's how it feels. The other, smaller part of me feels right at home, like everyone here is a potential best friend, and the world is just right. That part is about... oh, I'd say five percent of me. And it's that five percent that I slap on as a mask every morning, evening, and night that I must face the public. Funny how no one can see past that mask; how no one ever questions my blinding smile that feels so fake, nor the sheer amount of alcohol I consume just to keep myself in a room. But then maybe that just goes to show that even a musician, such as myself, can be the best actor in the universe. No one knows, no one suspects, and best of all... they never will.

Maybe it'd be best to introduce myself, since you're getting somewhat of a life story here. I'm Ando Daisuke... better known as Die, the rhythm guitarist for Dir en grey. Outwardly, I'm the one in the band who loves the public. I love parties, the color red, and about anything that walks on two legs and has a pair of breasts. When I smile, it's got a wattage that will blind you if you're not careful. I love my job and I get along with anyone. But on the inside... well, that's a completely different story. Inwardly, I fear crowded places, I dread having to leave my house each morning, my smile usually feels fake... and almost always is. I loathe parties for the reasons mentioned above, and the only thing that gets me through them at all is the alcohol. I only get along with those people that I have to, for the time I'm required to - no more, no less. Some part of me hates my job... really. I only do it because I love the guitar so damn much. And the largest thing that differs... well... there's only two things left, and I really like the color red... so you figure it out.

And, naturally, where the hell am I? Standing in the middle of a party I don't particularly want to attend. I showed up late and we all know what that means... I'm behind everyone else in the drinking department and now I'm standing here holding two beers, looking like I'm intentionally trying to get wasted. Don't get me wrong, I am. But no one's supposed to know that.

I glance around, making sure no one is specifically watching me, before I chug the first beer down and toss the bottle in the trashcan beside me. As I lift the second bottle to my lips, preparing to take a sip, I hear a voice directly behind me.

"You know... if you're not careful, I'm going to think you're trying to get plastered."

Fear smoothly slips in place over the prior anxiety caused by being here. Of course, as usual, my face displays none of my inner turmoil. I turn to face the speaker, expecting many things, but not at all what... or rather, who, I ended up face-to-face with. Blonde, spiky hair, cool gray eyes, a million dollar smile, and that damned noseband from hell, greet me. I plaster on a grin of my own, feeling like my face is going to crack and fall off if I hold it too long. I hold up the remaining bottle and shake it slightly. "It's gonna take a hell of a lot more than two lousy beers to get me plastered, Reita-kun."

He shrugs, and for the first time I notice he's holding two unopened green bottles. I eye them suspiciously as I take a swig from my own beer. Just as I'm about to open my mouth with a sarcastic response about his own alcohol consumption, he holds one out to me.

"I heard this is your favorite brand and thought I'd try to be sociable by getting you one."

I finish off the one I'm holding and reach out for the one he's holding. As I grasp the cool neck of it, my fingers brush against his. I attempt to not look nearly as shocked as I actually feel as I turn away and use the edge of the small table beside us to pop the lid off. He quickly follows suit, copying my actions before tossing the lid in the trash. I take a small sip of the beer, deciding to at least enjoy this one while it lasts. He watches me the entire time, something I find to be kind of intimidating... like he's gauging my reaction to the beer. What should my reaction be? Or rather, what does he expect it to be? I watch him in return, almost desperately hoping I'm causing him the same discomfort with my scrutiny that he's causing me. He lifts the bottle to his lips and takes a swig. He pauses, liquid in mouth, looks like he wants to spit it out for a second, and then swallows. I can't resist the true smile that pulls at my lips, before I burst out laughing. It's a true laugh, not any of this fake shit I usually pull.

He looks slightly embarrassed and mumbles under his breath at me. I have to lean in close to hear him.

"I don't usually drink beer..."

"Why'd you get one for yourself then?" I find it to be a justified question. I mean, seriously, why would he get something he doesn't think he'll like? Because I'm drinking it? In my mind that'd only make sense if he were a rabid fangirl. But hey... what do I know? So I let the question slip out, curiosity winning out.

"I..." he sighs as he brushes his fingers through his hair, "because you like it. It can't be all that bad then, right? Or at least that's what I thought..."

I give him a slightly confused look before reaching out and grabbing his beer. I stow it in the crook of my arm and take his hand, pulling him toward the bar. I'm unsure why I'm willingly doing this, but something just feels right about it. I haven't given a true smile to anyone outside the band and my close family in years. And in the space of ten minutes, he's made me smile and laugh. Either there's something here, or I've lost my mind. If it's the former, I'm not going to miss out on it just because I'm a wuss. And if it's the latter... well... shit happens, right?

A vaguely surprised look passes over his face as I drag him along beside me. I push our way up to the counter and pull him in beside me. For the first time in quite a while, I don't feel uncomfortable being pressed up against someone like this. Normally it'd set off all my warning bells and I'd mentally be itching to run away. The way we have to stand places him slightly in front of me, almost intimately close. I finish the beer he gave me and shove the bottle toward the bar tender, gaining his attention. He saunters over to us and simply looks at us questioningly. I nudge Reita slightly. "Order whatever you want. I'm paying."

"Um... vodka, three shots, one glass."

The bartender gets it for him and I shove more than enough money at him, before pulling my companion away from the bar. I aim for the seclusion of the booths in the back of the venue and once there, gesture for him to slide in first. He does and I follow suit, sliding in until our hips are almost touching.

"Thank you... you didn't have to do that, you know."

I shrug slightly. "I know..." I lift the beer bottle to my lips and take another sip. "I just felt like it... you seem nice enough."

His eyes feel like they're eating a hole right through to my soul and I can't help but flinch slightly under his gaze. It never falters, not even as he lifts his glass and tilts at least half the liquid into his mouth at once. I notice the slight shudder go through his body and I smirk. "You like it hard." It's a statement, a simple observation. And the instant it's out of my mouth, I realize how incredibly dirty it sounds. I crack a huge smile to go with it, trying to play it off like I meant it to sound that way. But he's not fooled, not in the least. Those gray eyes of his meet mine; they sparkle with humor and vitality that I wish I still had.

"What would you say if I said I do?"

I almost choke on my beer, but manage to recover fairly well. I eye him, sizing up his intent. I see nothing of the usual malice I find in most people's eyes when they tease. I drop my voice so that only he can hear me as I respond. I know I'm good enough to play this off if what I suspect is wrong. My lips quirk into a slight smirk. "I'd ask you how hard."

His voice drops to the same level as mine, maybe even lower than mine, and he leans toward me ever so slightly. "Harder than I can usually get anyone to give it to me."

I arch an eyebrow at him. Either he's damn good at playing along or he's serious. Part of me hopes he's serious. "Oh yeah?" I lean back and languidly stretch out, displaying everything I've got, almost daring him to look. And look he does... perhaps openly staring would be more accurate for what he's doing to me. I can feel his eyes rake across my body; it's almost tangible. I crook one finger at him, abandoning my beer on the table. When he leans in, I move my lips to his ear and my words are but a whisper. "If you want it, all you've got to do is ask."

He lingers there, not moving away as I'd half expected him to do. Then his hand is on my thigh, a hot pressing presence that can't be ignored. He strokes my leg, ever so gently until I swear to god I'm going to burn up from the sexual tension he's causing me. He picks up his drink from the table and slams the rest of it back, carelessly shoving the glass back down on the table before he pulls away from me and gestures for me to get out of the booth. "Let's ditch this place. I'm bored and you don't want to be here."

I gulp down the remains of my beer and slide out of the booth, offering my hand to help him out. He smirks at me, but takes it nonetheless. Much to my surprise, he doesn't let go of my hand as we head toward the exit. On the way out, Toshiya notices me and starts toward us, but at the almost imperceptible shake of my head, he stops and simply watches us leave. Vaguely, I realize that now he knows my secret. Our communication has always been like that; if I'm leaving to get laid, I give him that headshake and he backs off, letting me go on my way. Much to my surprise, I'm not worried about it. In fact, I don't even care. I usually feel almost shameful leaving with someone in this manner. But tonight is different. Tonight I feel like I'm on top of the world and everything is just right.

The cold air surrounds us as we push out the glass doors and into the night. Reita shivers slightly and I wrench my hand free only to drape it over his shoulders and pull him closer to me. I can see the smile on his lips from the corner of my eye and it puts one on my face as well. The walk to my apartment is made in silence, but it's comfortable that way.

Once we're inside the building, I let go of him so we can climb the three flights of stairs faster. It's useless to wait on the stupid slow as molasses elevator. I fumble with my keys as I try to open the door, my nerves finally catching up with me. No matter how many times I've fantasized about this, I've never actually done it. Some part of me can't believe I'm actually going to.

Finally I get the door open and let us inside. We ditch our boots in the hallway and I end up standing there like an idiot. It's like I left all my confidence in the hallway and good old Daisuke has decided to show up early. I swallow hard, praying he'll make the first move, or we're just going to stand here all night. He seems to sense my unease, as in the next moment, he steps forward and takes my hand in his, pulling me toward the living room. He plops down on the couch, tugging me down beside him, then turning and grinning awkwardly at me.

"So um... I don't want to sound odd or pushy here, but... I personally think you're a great guy and we seem to have hit it off pretty well, wouldn't you say?"

I nod slightly.

"I'd hate for this to just be sex and then be over and done with. I mean... I'd like to see you again... in the future... if you want." His voice trembles slightly and I realize just how much he's having to force himself to say these words. I feel for him, I really do. In his place, there's no way I could have opened my mouth with anything except maybe a stupid joke of some kind. I smile reassuringly... or at least I hope it looks reassuring. I never know what my face is doing, it just does whatever it wants to without me, I guess.

"I'd like that..." I can't think of anything else to say. Maybe my mind's already on the sex - shut down brain number one, turn on brain number two - or something like that. My nerves are still on edge and this is doing nothing to help them. Now we've agreed to see one another again. What if I suck at this? Why do I even bother doing shit like this? Internally I know I'm just gonna blow it anyway. It's pointless.

He interrupts my thoughts by placing his hand on my thigh again. Almost instantly my body is on fire. It's been too long since I've actually felt like this when someone touched me. And just like that, I shove all the worry aside in favor of this delirious feeling of pleasure. I lean in, my palm cupping his cheek to keep him in place, and gently brush my lips over his. He still tastes like vodka, but there's a pleasant taste that can be nothing but him underneath it. He initiates the second kiss, covering the infinitesimally small distance I've put between our lips, and pressing his firmly against my own. The second is still almost as chaste as the first, as though we're testing the waters with one another. The third is a little more aggressive on my part, and the fourth is even deeper, his tongue finding its way into the depths of my mouth. I respond, my tongue tracing over his, pressing with gentle dominance.

He lets out a soft moan and moves to straddle my lap. I gasp and pull back from the kiss when he grinds his hips against me. The friction feels so incredibly good against my forming erection and I can't help but arch up into him. He buries his hand in my hair and kisses me deep and passionate, his hips moving against me in short measured thrusts the entire time. He doesn't stop moving even when he pulls back from the kiss and stares down into my eyes. I stare back up at him, transfixed by how utterly sexual the look he's giving me is.

"You haven't done this before." It's not a question, it's a statement of fact, and he knows it just as well as I do. My cheeks burn lightly in a combination of lust, embarrassment, and shame. I shake my head; unable to voice the words I don't want to admit. But his smile derails any thoughts of humiliation that enter my mind. "It's okay. It'll only be my second time with another man." He moves his hips again and I can't help but let out a sharp gasp of pleasure and surprise. Then his mouth is over mine again and my brain tries desperately to cling to sanity. God I want him; the evidence of that is throbbing achingly hard in my pants as he grinds against it. His angle shifts slightly and my hands fist in his shirt as I feel his erection pressing back against me. Any shame I had in being so blatantly aroused by this is instantly banished. My own hips buck up to meet his as I seek more of this indescribable pleasure.

The thought flits through my mind that it's never been like this with anyone else. It's always been about getting laid, about finding that orgasm - nothing more. But this... this is so much more. I don't just want to fuck him. I want to bond with him. I want him to want this as much as I do. I kiss him almost reverently, desperately trying to convey just what I feel through the simple act of a kiss. I'll never be able to say these words, but he has to know that it's just not the same as a mindless fuck.

He pulls back from the kiss and nips his way along my jaw. His voice is breathless in my ear, tickling my senses. "I want you so bad... I want this." The conviction within that last word tells me that he understands, that he wants it too, just the same as I do. I raise my hand and trace over his noseband, begging silently for him to remove it. Without hesitation, he reaches up and pulls it off, carelessly tossing it aside. I stare at his perfect face for a moment before I pull him back down, kissing him once more.

His fingers slide down my chest to my pants and he quickly undoes my belt and my pants, pushing aside my boxers, and fisting my length in his warm hand. The contact's so sudden that I cry out softly as my hips press toward his touch. I fumble to return the favor, slightly angry at my hands for not being as adept as they should be. I find it fortunate that he's foregone a belt tonight, seeing as how I'm not sure I could ever get it undone in this state if he had. I pop open the four buttons that keep his pants closed and slide my hand in. I gasp softly at the discovery that he's not wearing anything under his pants. "Naughty, Rei..." I fondle his length for a moment before becoming impatient enough that I start tugging at his pants.

He smirks down at me and pulls away, sliding off my lap to stand up. He shoves one hand in his pocket, retrieving a shiny foil packet and then shoves his pants down his hips, to pool in the floor at his feet. Within seconds, he's straddling me again, tugging at my pants to get them down. I lift my hips and he slides them down to my knees. I kick them the rest of the way off as he settles down and rips the packet open with his teeth. I follow his every movement, arching slightly toward him as he rolls the condom down my length. He straightens up and leans over, capturing my mouth with his own. I feel his movements, but I can't quite figure out what he's doing. Curiosity wins and I pull back from the kiss to watch him. He has his hand between his legs and I still can't tell what it is he's doing exactly. He rests one hand on my shoulder and winces slightly, his breath hitching in pain. "Rei?" Concern laces my voice as I peer at him.

"It's fine..." he winces again, "just preparing myself so it'll hurt less."

I stroke his toned thighs softly. "It shouldn't have to hurt..."

He smiles at me. "It always will. It's just part of having sex with another man. It's alright though, I don't mind a little pain; I just don't want too much."

I nod as I watch him. Absently I reach out and stroke his still semi-hard length. Maybe if I distract him, it won't be so bad. If nothing else, his dick seems to agree with me, as before long it's achingly hard in my hand. He gasps at me to stop and I do. His cheeks are flushed with the same desire that his eyes are burning with as he seems to stare directly into my soul. I feel him moving, but I'm distracted enough by the look he's giving me that I don't pay it any mind. And then I'm being engulfed in tight warmth and I can't control the moans that fall from my lips. It's tighter than anything I've ever experienced before and the heat is almost impossible. Once I'm fully inside of him, he stills and leans in, kissing me passionately. I kiss him back, resuming with stroking his length.

Eventually he starts moving; the rise and fall of his body over mine feels so damn good. I hold back as long as I can, but eventually I snap and throw the rhythm he's set all to hell as my hips erratically slam up into him. My fingers find his hips and I push him down as I thrust upward. It all feels so fucking good. I don't think I'll ever get enough of this... of him. I break the kiss, wanting more leverage; I sink down on the couch a little so that the back braces my shoulders and I start thrusting again. He cries out above me, the voice of an angel. I keep the angle and the pace as best I can and he cries out at every upward thrust I make, every cry bringing me closer and closer to the edge. I let go of one hip to grasp his length in my hand again. I jerk him roughly, too far gone to be gentle with it. But he doesn't seem to mind at all; his chorus of moans getting louder at the treatment. He clenches around me as he cries out my name loud enough to wake the neighbors, should they be sleeping. His cum spurts out over my fingers, running down my wrist to drip on his thigh. Just the sight of him cumming by my hand is enough to push me over the edge. I breathe out the first half of his name and with one final thrust, I'm swimming in a world of bliss. I thrust a few more times, emptying myself completely before I collapse back against the couch.

We lay there for a moment before he moves away, taking the condom off me, and depositing it in the small trashcan beside the table. He grabs a few tissues and wipes up a bit before coming back with a new wad of tissue and cleaning me up as well. I watch him, a slight smile on my lips and once the tissues are in the trash, I pull him back down against me and nuzzle my face into the crook of his neck. "That was amazing." I feel him nod in agreement and my smile widens in accordance.

Finally I've found someone who understands me, but doesn't push me further than I can go. Instinctually, I know he'll push me to my limits, but not beyond. I feel at peace and at home with the man in my arms. Nothing, and I mean nothing, is going to get in the way of this feeling I've finally found. He's mine. I'm his. Together we'll make this work. Fuck the rest of the world.


End file.
